


Lost Whispers

by SolNiveAngelo (Mogadorian_Wolf)



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, F/F, F/M, John's like a protective older brother to Five, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mog prisoner issues, Nine and Mark are brothers, Terrible Parents, This does not go the way beauty and the beast normally goes, kickass Adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7127126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogadorian_Wolf/pseuds/SolNiveAngelo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorien Legacies in a Beauty and the Beast story. Sam’s dad has been missing for years and the town’s hotshot- Stanley- has decided to try pursuing him. Sam’s pretty sure he’s not serious about it, just curious about how a relationship between two guys work. Somehow they’ve become sort-of friends through the weird relationship- even if Sam’s still saying no. And on a trip to find his father, Sam ends up getting locked in the castle of the resident beast- Cody. It’s a good thing he has the practice of dealing with difficult people, but he finds himself strangely attracted to one of the other cursed individuals in the castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this idea while reading another beauty and the beast crossover (The Ghost King by MelChan1003). The stumbling scene of the father just made me think of Sam for some reason, and then I wondered what would happen if the Belle character (Sam) fell for one of the servants instead of the prince. It grew from there.  
> So here’s who everyone’s supposed to be (cause I make no guarantees you'll recognize it)  
> Sam- Belle  
> Malcolm- the father (obviously because who else would fit the kidnapped father role so well)  
> Five/Cody- the prince or king rather because the parents are nonexistent which would make him the ruler...  
> Nine/Stanley- Gaston  
> Four/John, Eight/Naveen, Three/Hannu, Marina/Seven, Two, One, Six/Maren Elizabeth- the servants put them where you want.  
> All other mentions don’t exactly fit into the Beauty and the Beast storyline model. Who really wants to stick with the same old storyline? It’s so much better when you twist it. Also there's going to be some hints at Sam/Nine but not like real serious... probably.

                Wolves howled as they trapped the straying horse and his rider. Sam tried to calm Stanley down. The horse was always slightly overweight and lazy, but loyal to the bone and a fighter when he needed to be. Still he wouldn’t stand a chance against the wolves, and Sam saw it even clearer when the horse tried to outrun the wolves.

                Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw the caged castle, and he knew what he had to do. He gripped his satchel filled with the only clues he had to his father’s disappearance years ago and whispered in Stanley’s ear, “Go find your namesake.”

                Then he leapt off Stanley’s back, screaming to make sure he had to wolves attention. That might’ve been a bad idea, because if Stanley couldn’t outrun the wolves how the heck was he supposed to. He raced toward the towering gates anyway, years of outrunning the other kids his age paying off… until he stumbled in the entry. He slammed the gates closed with the feet barely in time for the wolves to batter against it, but at least the gate held.

                Stanley hadn’t taken the opportunity still hesitating wanting to protect Sam, jump to his aid despite the odds. Sam felt his heart stammer in fear and he screamed as he held his satchel’s strap like it was his lifeline, “Stanley! Run!”

                The horse turned and took off as fast as he could. Luckily, the wolves were to focus on Sam to take off after the horse, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief before getting up. He pushed his glasses up- well they were really his dad’s glasses but Sam never took them off. Most of the town people believed that Malcolm Goode had just ran off with another woman, but Sam knew better. Malcolm loved his mom, and he always told Sam legends about a whole lost kingdom overcame by shades that disguised themselves as humans. They had taken his father… Sam knew it.

                He stared up at the towering dark castle. It was intimidating, and Sam hadn’t heard of there even being a castle out this far- at least not until you crossed the border to the Mog’s kingdom which no one in their right mind would do. But Sam was hardly ever in his right mind especially when it came to looking for his dad.

                The skies opened up for a downpour that apparently couldn’t have waited any longer. Sam sighed, already drenched. Better to risk the castle for the night than stay out here any longer. In a couple days, maybe even as early as the morning, Stanley his eternal wooer would be here to take him back, probably scolding him for looking for his father again, let alone going near the Mog’s kingdom. He could almost picture the subtle way Stanley would shake during it- like he was still reliving his memories of being prisoner. That would make Sam feel worse than anything.

                With another sigh, he knocked on the door, and it creaked open. No one was waiting inside for him, and Sam shivered. He was a strong believer in the supernatural- he took after his dad in that way- and walking in like this almost felt like trespassing. The door slammed shut behind him, making Sam jump and shiver again. A female voice laughed at that, “Jumpy, aren’t ya?”

               The voice came from an empty space, and Sam almost screamed. Stanley could make as much fun of him as he wanted, but he knew if Stanley was here he’d probably be ready to go to war, trying to hide his own fear. The girl laughed again, and he could feel a breeze moving past him as the voice drifted toward a room that branched off with a roaring fire, “Please, make yourself right at home. We don’t get enough guests in these parts.”

                Sam was almost tempted to try his luck with the wolves than to go into that room, but it would break Horse Stanley’s and Suitor Stanley’s hearts. So he cautiously wandered into the room, taking a seat in a convenient armchair that sat in front of the fire, ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. The female voice came right behind him this time, sounding like she was weighing him up, “I say we should just throw him at him and see how it goes.”

                A little white light moved around the chair and hovered in front of Sam, humming. Sam sunk into the chair, growing pale as a male voice came from it, “No. He’ll just get pissed off and sulk for days again. We keep him here ‘til morning and make sure prince- _he_ doesn’t found out.”

                The girl laughed, teasing the white light, “Favorite.”

                Sam could almost see the light make a face, “You know he lets us all call him by name- he hates the term master.” The light’s attention turned to Sam, “Are you hungry? I can get you some dry clothes to change into for the night while the ones you’re wearing dry.”

                The girl laughed, “You think he’s cute.”

                Sam swallowed, half scared to ask but curious too, “So you’re what? Ghosts?”

                A booming voice answered for the two somewhat friendly spirits, “What is going on here?”

                Sam jumped higher than he had before and for a brief moment found himself in another boy’s arms- pale and washed out but with a handsome face. Then he was back on his feet and the boy dissolved into the little light. Sam forced his eyes over to where the new voice had come from. It seemed male but not quite, the skin shimmering like it was made out of marble or something, almost blending right into his surroundings. One eye was missing and he touched more on the chubby side, and while Sam was sure he wasn’t really tall, he gave off that aura that seemed to make him seem huge. Sam wanted to melt into the ground.

                Stanley had better get here a whole lot quicker than he had been planning.


	2. Chapter 1: A couple days earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened before Sam left as seen by Stanley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the main chapter that had me marking Sam/Nine because there's a lot of it.  
> I'm thinking about posting maybe once a month since all the chapters are probably going to be this long.

“Hey cutie,” Stanley greeted, plopping down beside Sam who was digging through the odds and ends at the village witchcraft store- or at least that’s all Stanley really understood about it. Sam barely glanced at him, but that was better than the pretend sympathetic looks he got from everyone else. He used to be such a big deal here- everyone wanted to marry him.

                Stanley picked up a trinket with like seven different spinning parts. He twirled it in front of his face before waving at Sam like a pretend sword. Sam made a face before snatching it from him, “What are you? Like Nine?”

                “You can call me that if you’d like,” Stanley told him with a smirk. The name “Stanley” belonged to someone else that no longer existed- that boy died at sea, and “Nine” was all that was left. A number, a survivor. But that wasn’t entirely true either. Thinking about back there just reminded him that just because he had made it out alive doesn’t mean anyone else did.

                Sam just sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling like he couldn’t believe had had to put up with this. “Tell me you at least didn’t get kicked out of the house again.”

                Stanley kicked his legs up, staring up at the ceiling as well. “To get kicked out would require my family actually pay attention to me enough to even dislike me.”

                “You’re saying you haven’t actually been kicked out before!” Sam yelped, and Stanley glanced over at him. “So you’ve just been crashing over at my place for no reason?”

                Sam was turning to give Stanley a disbelieving look. Stanley quickly looked back up at the ceiling before he was caught staring again, and Sam really tore into him. “No. I have a reason.” And Sam damn well knew that as well as he did.

                That exasperated noise from Sam again, but Stanley didn’t bother looking over. A book landed in his lap, soft and fluttering. Stanley startled and looked over at Sam who was leaning against the shelves now, looking a little sad now. He’d broken the dance again. They tried to pretend that everything was okay that it wasn’t as messed up as it was… well Stanley did. Sam sometimes tried to talk to him about it, but… no one here could possibly have understood.

                “It’s better than to go through every day being bruised,” Sam said softly. There weren’t a lot of people here that were nice to him either. Stanley like to think he chased most of them away, kept Sam at least somewhat safe, but he knew better. He caught sight of the occasional bruise on Sam’s torso to often not to.

                He sighed and rolled onto his side, dumping the book to the ground and stared at it like it might have all the answers to the questions he dared not ask. The title was something about ghosts again for the third time this week. “At least then you aren’t already wondering if you aren’t already dead, and nobody’s bothered to tell you- if maybe you never really made it out. I’d rather be hated than treated like I’m invisible or worse- pitied.”

                Sam pushed off from the shelves and crouched down beside Stanley, gently pushing Stanley’s too long hair out of his face. He was pitying him again, and Stanley scowled. Sam just sighed and grabbed the book before standing back up. “I heard some of the girls talking… they still think you’re hot, just wondering how you can act like nothing happened. Didn’t have the nerve to speak up and tell them that’s all it is- an act.” He studied Stanley’s face again like he seriously thought Stanley’d say something, open up or some shit.

                After a moment, he just sighed and moved on like he always did. Stanley watched Sam walk back out of the store, dropping some money on the countertop as he left. He kind of wondered if maybe he wasn’t making a mistake in not telling anyone what had happened, but it was the only one he could make. Alone again, Stanley sighed and dropped his head back on the floor as he finally gave Sam an answer he wouldn’t hear, “Because it’s the only way I know how to deal with it.”

                The store owner came back out of the back room and put his new money up. After the bustle, the quiet rained again, and Stanley saw the owner cautiously peer around the shelf at him. He rolled his eyes, getting the message and got to his feet.

 

                “Why doesn’t he like me? I mean, I’m attractive, strong, have a charming personality…” Stanley looked at his older brother for an explanation. This was the most normal conversation he could make, like trying to win Sam over was the biggest thing on his mind. He kind of wished it was, like that year hadn’t happened. Of course if that were the case, Stanley would probably be chasing some pretty girl that was already totally taken with him.

                Mark was making out with his girlfriend, Sarah, as usual. That was really all he ever did. At his younger brother’s pause, he briefly paused, pulling back enough to mutter, “Yeah, you’re totally awesome. She should marry you. Why wouldn’t she?”

                Stanley rolled his eyes as Mark promptly went back to making out. He hardly even remembered the shy hand holding that had started all this years ago, before… well before Stanley had been dumb enough to try rescuing his own girlfriend. There was a scar that wasn’t going to heal, not like anyone would ever know about it. Their father had made it very clear that whatever happened on the seas and beyond was meant to stay there.

                “Sam Goode, Mark, Sam Goode. You know him; I’ve been chasing him since I miraculously saved myself from the- oh sorry that’s all top secret. I haven’t been chasing girls for a while,” Stanley bit back, rolling his eyes. Mark didn’t say anything to that. Why would he? He was too wrapped up in Sarah to actually even know who Stanley had been talking about for years.

Stanley sighed. It was clear that Mark wasn’t going to pay any more mind to his brother, and if their father actually cared about them, maybe Stanley would complain more. Instead he just made his way back out the door, calling over his shoulder like he could actually get a rise out of Mark anymore,“I’m not watching the baby if you get her pregnant, and I’m taking your advice and proposing to Sam. If it doesn’t work out, I’m blaming you.”

                Mark didn’t even respond, and Stanley just rolled his eyes. He was more or less used to it. There had been a time when Mark had been an awesome brother, teaching him how to flirt, pointing out cute girls and everything. But that was all before. Everything was before. Now, Sam was the only person in the whole town he actually felt any connection to. Everyone else looked at him like he was broken- like being held captive for a year automatically made him crazy. Before, everyone was all over Stanley- they thought he was the hottest, the coolest, everything. He had three different marriage offers. Now, only Sam tolerated his presence, and _he_ was scorned and called crazy by the whole town. Stanley vaguely thought he might’ve been the same way, before.

               

                Sam was sitting on his favorite tree stump away from the bustle of the town when Stanley found him. The tree stump was mostly surrounded by still growing trees blocking the town from view as well. He was hunched over his book, intently reading with the glasses he didn’t even need perched on his nose. An apple was stuck in his mouth that he was occasionally remembering to take a bite out of. Right over his shoulder, his overweight horse- ironically named Stanley as well- seemed to be reading along with Sam when he wasn’t eating the rare grass that had popped up. Stanley was pretty sure Sam only named the horse after him in the hopes of annoying him, though Stanley actually kind of liked the horse who- he was pretty sure- liked him back. So that had failed.

                For a moment, Stanley just leaned against one of the trees watching Sam. It wasn’t really a crush- Stanley understood that- but it was a deep affection. He liked watching Sam, liked how sometimes Sam would take him seriously. It was easy to imagine waking up every morning with Sam, in his arms or him making breakfast. Every time it brought a sense of peace. Maybe it didn’t make him crazy, like it was the only thing he wanted it, but he did want it, wanted to feel okay again, even if he had a feeling he was never going to be okay again.

                “I have the greatest idea,” Stanley announced, and Sam looked up from his book, taking the apple out of his mouth.

                He looked at Stanley doubtfully, “Yeah? What is it this time?”

                Stanley grinned. “Marry me.”

                Sam snorted before bursting into full laughter. Stanley felt a little insulted. Who did Sam have waiting for him? Stanley knew he might not be the ideal partner with his nightmares and all, but Sam never seemed to mind that. Sam could comfort him better than anyone, and Stanley did his best to protect him.

                Finally, Sam looked up at him, laughter dying down. “You’re serious?” Stanley nodded, and Sam’s smile slid off his face. Stanley felt like he was going to be sick. They shared a bed fairly often, sharing a life would hardly be any different. He guessed Sam didn’t think of it in the same way. Sam swallowed, “Stanley… I’m not…I’m not interested in you like that. I don’t want to just get married and be your perfect little bride.” He was on his feet now, pacing, and Stanley kind of felt like crying- not that he ever would, even if Sam had already seen that display before. “I’m going to marry for love… not convenience or because you’re curious how two guys do it. You don’t love me like that Stanley.”

                Stanley turned away, even as he felt the horse brush its muzzle against his cheek in a comforting gesture. There were other reasons Stanley picked Sam, but he couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t tell Sam that he wanted Sam because he could calm Stanley after a nightmare. Sam’s arms around him or his gentle voice could get Stanley to spill what haunted him in the early hours, or how sometimes he just kind of wanted to gently kiss Sam’s bruises.

                He jolted when he felt Sam touch his arms. The horse was now resting his head on Stanley’s shoulder, looking like he wanted to make him feel better. He gently nuzzled Stanley’s head over to Sam. Stanley sighed and looked at Sam who actually seemed really sad about it and dared to press a little kiss to Stanley’s cheek, “I know you’re asking for a particular someone. Don’t put me in the middle of that. I don’t want to be the reason you can’t have what you really want.”

                Stanley sighed and rested his back fully against the tree. He wasn’t. The guy Stanley really wanted was never going to be an option. Even if he was… Stanley wasn’t sure how they’d even work through everything, but he guess he could see where Sam was coming from. It just… hurt- made him remember… made him remember what Maddie had said to him when he’d tried to save her. _Harsh laughter. “I thought you wanted me to be happy, Stanley.” Her voice dripped with false sweetness, and she draped her arms around the girl next to her. “Emma makes me happy Stanley- in a way you never could and never would.”_ No Sam wouldn’t do that to him. But once upon a time, he’d thought the same of Maddie.

 “Yeah, yeah. No big deal. Just let me stay over again tonight. Save us both the trouble,” He muttered. Sam might tease Stanley about getting kicked out, pretending that was the reason he let Stanley in most nights, but they both knew better. It was just a cover, a little way Sam tried to protect Stanley’s dignity, play into his act.

They might not do anything during the nights they slept together, but there was plenty of rumors to the contrary. Not like either of their families cared- Sam mother was too busy trying to move on from the disappearance of her husband to deal with a son no one could understand, and Stanley’s never paid enough mind to even notice, let alone care. When he’d been held hostage for that whole year, they never even looked for him. He could probably be half dead, and they’d walk right by him without saying a word.

Sam sighed and took Stanley’s hand, pulling him to the stump. He smiled sadly, and Stanley hesitantly returned it. Sam sat back on the stump, and Stanley flopped down at his feet, staring up at him. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and then Sam finally replied, “My bedroom window’s always open for you. Something has to be.”

He went back to his book, and Stanley seriously wondered if Sam might not have given up hope on his father still being alive. Maybe that’s what all the books were for; maybe he was going to try to contact his father’s spirit. Stanley shuddered at the thought, but he wouldn’t ever comment on it. Whatever made Sam happy. He almost snorted at that thought. Being able to find true love and all that nonsense was what would make Sam happy, and he was kind of in the way of that. No one would marry a boy who was shrouded in rumors of sleeping with someone else, especially someone like Stanley.

“Sam?” Sam looked up at him, but Stanley looked past him to the sky. “I’m sorry. For you having to put up with me. For ruining any chance you had of… you know, getting that relationship you want. For all of that. I guess I’m just more trouble than I’m worth.”

“You’re not.” Sam quickly responded, setting his book down on the ground. “You’re not more trouble than you’re worth. No one here would ever want me like that. Until you I didn’t think I’d ever be pursued. And… what they do to you isn’t fair either. You shouldn’t have to go through something like that by yourself. I mean… yeah, sometimes you can be a jerk, but you’re kind of my best friend- my only friend.”

Stanley found himself staring at Sam’s face, watching as he shifted uncomfortably. The relationship he had with Sam was different than anything he’d had before. It made him feel just a little bit safer, a little closer to an impossible peace. Stanley knew something like that couldn’t last forever- good things always died just when you thought you had it.

“One day, I’m going to kiss you- really kiss you.”

Sam laughed, but for once didn’t protest.

 

Stanley didn’t bother going home. There was no reason to- nothing there worth going home for. He also didn’t go with Sam straight to his house when the night finally fell. If he did that, then it would be too clear that Stanley really didn’t have a life outside of what he did with Sam. So he wandered the desolate streets as the rain started to pour down.

_“I have to go after her!” Sandor was trying to hold him back from barging onto the ship. It’d been raining so hard that mud was everywhere, and both of them were slipping and sliding. Stanley was trying so hard to break out of his uncle’s arms- the youngest of six._

_“Come on, Stanley. Stop it. Going after her won’t do any good. They’ll only kill you,” Sandor pleaded, but Maddie was out there. She was the first girl Stanley had actually gotten serious with, and now she was in the Mogs’ hands. He could still remember the sweet little kiss she’d planted on his cheek before she left with her parents on a merchant trip, promising to be back real quick. But she hadn’t. None of them had._

_He was full out sobbing, now, just collapsing into Sandor’s arms. Sandor rubbed his back, holding him tight to his chest. “Shh… there’s nothing we can do. We’re a village without a king, and you’re only fourteen.”_

_“I can’t leave her, Sandor. I mean, I love her.” Stanley looked up at him, broken on the inside. Sandor only sighed, and gently kissed his forehead, “I know child, but rushing in with a hot head will do us no good.” It didn’t calm Stanley’s shaking body or the crying._

_Sandor’s girlfriend came up beside them, looking between them. Stanley remembered hearing somewhere that she was of noble class, but he didn’t really care. She made his uncle happy, made him laugh. Sandor exchanged a look with her over Stanley’s head like he didn’t know they were secretly talking about him._

_“I can get us a ship to go after her tonight, but you have to be 100% sure,” Lexa finally stated, staring at Sandor as if she was talking to him, but Stanley knew the words were meant for him. He stood up tall and straight, like a prince. If only he knew that at that moment, he wasn’t truly broken- not yet, not like he would be if he went on the trip after her. Maybe he wouldn’t have replied with such a solid voice, with such confidence: “I’m sure.”_

Stanley heard the muttering that jolted him out of the memory, the awful moment that had set his course. A couple of sweet looking girls were hovering just inside the shadows watching him. They were whispering about him, he just knew it. He stopped and stared steadily back at them. After a moment, they glanced at each other as if coming to a consensus and stepped out of the alley toward him, swaggering as they walked. They were more skimpily dressed than Stanley had first noticed, and he remembered Mark once upon a time whispering to him, “Those aren’t a one-guy kind of girl. Don’t get mixed up with them unless you want your heart broken.”

He wanted to take a step back, but you don’t show anyone weakness; they’d just use it to break you, see it as a win for them. The two girls stopped in front of them, a blonde and a brunette. The blonde tilted her head, staring into his eyes like his soul lay bare for them to gaze at. Her friend spoke up, “They say you weren’t really held captive- you were just playing on their side. I bet there were a lot of pretty girls.”

Stanley accidently took a step back, unable to breathe. _“Sometimes they try to break us other ways. Pretty girls, or boys, who know it and use it to their full advantage. The worse are the sweet ones. They toss them in here sometimes: the ‘weak’ ones. It’s their one shot to do something productive- to show their value. They’re the worse because it’s either you or them, and you always end up watching them die. That little bit of niceness dies. They force you to watch as they throw them to the beasts to be torn apart. At some point you’ll realize there’s really no point. You can’t trust anyone here. It’s the first lesson you learn.” That was one of the first things the boy in the cell next to him told him. He was the one person that got Stanley through that year._

For a moment, he was right back there, panic washing over him. He had to fight just to get his breathe back, by then the two girls were staring wide-eyed at him. It wasn’t pity or doubt; it was disgust. He felt so done with it. Four years should’ve been enough to push it aside, but some days it felt like he’d never left that place, like it took a part of him that he would never be able to reclaim.

He straightened and looked them straight in the eyes, “They’re wrong. I was held prisoner by the Mogs for a year. No one ever came for me. I got myself out. So why don’t you go shove it, and go screw someone else.”

They backed away from him before turning and almost running away. It was only when they’d blended into the night that he realized he’d pulled the blade he clung to on them. That was a good way to get locked up- called even crazy than Sam. He snorted. Who was anyone kidding? He already knew he was a good deal crazier than Sam could ever be.

 

“I thought you’d be sleeping,” Stanley whispered, already crawling through the window into Sam’s room. Sam had a lamp burning, the book he’d been reading open on the bed and his father’s journal on his lap, the glasses right beside him. It was already well into the night. Most of the village was already fast asleep.

Sam looked up from studying the journal. His eyes darted across Stanley’s face as he slowly replied, “I figured I might as well wait for you. You always like coming in the middle of the night.” Stanley could see it on Sam’s face; he knew something was wrong but didn’t know it he should say anything or not. After a pause, he continued on like nothing was wrong, which Stanley appreciated. “Mark kick you out to get a little beyond making out with Sarah again?”

Stanley rolled his eyes, but slid the window shut and crossed the room to sit beside Sam. “He doesn’t ask me to leave- doesn’t even wait for me to. If he wants to screw Sarah Hart, he just does it. He’s done it while I was in the same room as him before. It’s up to me to save my own eyes from that sight.”

He flopped down on Sam’s bed, watching as Sam hurriedly moved the glasses from beside him to the nightstand. Sam closed the books, putting them aside as well. Stanley let his gaze travel over Sam’s body, frowning for a moment. “You aren’t even dressed for bed.”

“Neither are you, and you’re sopping wet on top of it,” Sam replied curtly, before turning around to face the new arrival, crossing his legs and studying Stanley even more closely. Stanley rolled his eyes, but kicked his shoes off, sitting up. He was pulling his wet T- shirt over his head when Sam calmly stated, “Someone made you cry.”

Stanley froze, cursing himself for momentarily forgetting how good Sam could read him or for thinking Sam would just let it be. He slowly turned, watching Sam out of the corner of his eyes as he casually replied, “Couple of bitches. I sent them on their way home all straightened out.”

Sam pulled at the frayed bottom of his jeans, eyes fixed on the strings. “Still. They should leave you alone. Lorien knows they’d be jumping at the chance to be yours before you were taken away. And you came back when a lot of people haven’t. If anything you should be treated like a hero or something for surviving that.”

Stanley snorted, “And you turned down my proposal.”

Sam’s eyes jolted up, looking at Stanley as if trying to gauge how he was really feeling about the whole thing. After a moment, he leaned forward kissing Stanley’s cheek. He pulled away, staying a couple inches as he whispered, “I told you, I want you to be truly happy. With me, you’d be content but not really happy.”

Stanley turned to stare into Sam’s eyes, “Maybe content’s the best I can ever get.”

Sam pulled fully back, “I don’t believe that. Refuse to. Now come on, get off my bed. I surprisingly have some dry clothes for you to wear.”

“What, you’ve been shopping for me or something?” Stanley asked with a laugh. He never really left anything here, didn’t change out of his clothes too often. He pulled off his damp jeans anyways. Sam turned with a grin, throwing the clothes at Stanley’s face, “I broke into your place and raided your room. I figured it was only fair I return the favor at least once.”

Stanley fell on the floor in the middle of putting on the dry pants, laughing. Sam grinned down at him, tossing his own night clothes on the bed as he started telling the story, “Yeah. There’s this nice girl- Daniela. Kind of a rebel, reads a little into witch craft and hunting magic- that kind of thing.” He started pulling his shirt off his head, slow and careful in a way that Stanley knew too well, a way that had the smile falling from his face. He got up to sit on the bed as Sam continued on, not paying attention to Stanley to know what was coming. “We met at that shop. She kicked Todd’s ass for making a move on her. You’d like her.”

The shirt was discarded across the room, and Sam eagerly reached for one to replace it, but Stanley put his hand on it, stopping him. The colorful skin underneath was already well exposed, and Sam looked nervous about it. He still retracted his hand from the shirt, just standing there. Their eyes met each other, giving into the usual silent struggle of facing it or side stepping it. Sam turned his face away after a couple moments, admitting defeat.

“Todd do that?”

“Mark used to,” Sam reminded him, dark eyes scanning Stanley’s face from the corners like he was still trying to read Stanley, see how he was really feeling under the mask. Stanley snorted, retracting his hand from the shirt to pull his own shirt on. “Mark’s an ass.”

He watched as Sam turned around to change his pants, apparently not ready to put the shirt on now that Stanley had already seen what he’d been hiding. There was a little part of him that wondered if Sam hadn’t waited to change for that purpose- like it might get Stanley to open up or something- as Sam gave a tiny laugh. “And he’s your brother. What does that say about you?”

“That you can’t choose family… that and a pretty face is enough to get him to forget everything in favor of more primitive instincts,” Stanley replied calmly, watching as Sam grabbed the shirt and tried to carefully put it back on. “You can leave it off, you know.”

Sam jolted, looking over his shoulder at Stanley. His gaze softened a little, and Stanley reached over, daring to run a finger lightly over Sam’s bruised skin, barely touching it. Sam quickly pulled the shirt over his head, wincing. Stanley winced in sympathy.

“I just turned down your marriage proposal; I think that’d send the wrong message,” Sam reminded him softly, sitting on the bed right beside Stanley. Stanley nodded, turning to sit fully on the bed, back against the wall as he stared at the opposite wall, at the door.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Sam startled beside him. “What?”

“Todd.” Stanley finally dared to look over at Sam. “I’m going to kill him. For hurting you.”

Sam’s worried and confused look settled down into something softer as he finally understood. “You can’t kill him Stanley. Just because you can’t… you can’t hurt the people who hurt you doesn’t mean you have to try and… try to keep that from happening with me. Todd’s just a jerk, but I don’t give him more than a half thought when he’s out of sight. I have a lot of other things on my mind. Besides it’s not worth you getting thrown in jail or something.”

“I pulled my sword on those girls,” Stanley blurted, frowning as he stared at his hands as if there was something wrong with them and not just him. Sam didn’t make a noise, so Stanley forged on, “I didn’t even realize I’d done it until they were gone. Some days it feels like I’ve never left that place, Sam, like I’m still there.”

Sam reached over, putting his hand on Stanley’s back. “You aren’t though. And you’re not ever going to be again. I’ll make sure of it.”

He was getting reassurance from the kid who probably knew more about the supernatural than how to fight. What had he come to? Stanley found himself leaning against him as Sam slid his arms around him in a supporting hug. It was a subtle shift as Sam got them laying down, whispering, “What you’re really worried about isn’t that you never left, but that it never left you. And I wish I knew how to take that away, but all I know is how to calm you down, keep you all the way here.”

For a moment, Stanley wonders how many times they’ve done this, because it feels too familiar like a pattern of behavior that’s been burned into his mind. He lost a lot to that nightmare of a place, but he got Sam, and Stanley’s not sure how he ever missed Sam before because Sam is flat out amazing. He curls into Sam, barely listening to Sam’s whispers. When he wakes up, he knows that Sam will be laying on the other side of the bed; this is just to get him to sleep. He sighs against Sam’s chest and gives in.

_It’s peaceful. For a moment, Stanley could almost forget why he’s at sea. His favorite uncle was standing by the rails with his girlfriend’s arms around him. They look so peaceful together, perfect. Stanley breathed deeply, inhaling the salty air. He kind of wanted to tell them to forget Maddie, but he didn’t want to go home yet either. Here, he could pretend that he didn’t have a father that could care less about him. Here, he could pretend that Sandor and Lexa were his real parents, that they were just on a sea voyage, and maybe somewhere out there in a different time it was true. Because here, he didn’t have to wonder if he was coming in second place._

_Somehow he found himself standing right beside them, wanting to say something, do something, because he knew what comes next. He’s had this dream a thousand times already, and each time he can’t get the words out. It’s like drowning, like the first time he’d tried to escape, but they don’t know that. They’re not real._

_Sandor looked at him with that smile that always told him everything was going to be okay. It was the same smile he gave Stanley when he found him wondering what it would take to get his father to notice him- to actually care. But it’s not the smile Stanley needs right now, because it shows that Sandor doesn’t understand what’s really going through Stanley’s head. He put his arm around Stanley’s shoulder, drawing him toward him, and Lexa smiles at him, resting her head on Sandor’s shoulder. It felt like a real family. The panic subsides, and Stanley allows himself to relax against his uncle. It’s too easy to forget._

_And then he hears the thump- the sound of someone boarding their ship- and the panic’s back. He pulls away from Sandor and sees the blood pouring from his chest, coughing. He’s dying all over again, because of Stanley, because Stanley can’t let go. It’s just a quick flash: Sandor with a sword through his chest, falling. He’s dying in Stanley’s arms, and Lexa’s screaming, and then he’s being thrown back, back into the memory he’s trying to fight._

_They’d invaded the ship after an almost perfect week at sea, a week that had Stanley doubting he ever wanted to go back. It’d been Maddie’s ship, Stanley remembers. They’d been suspicious, but Maddie… Maddie had waved from the ship, and they’d just let her on. The Mogs came right behind her, boarding like pirates from the too hot lands in the east. Sandor and Lexa had their swords out, and Stanley had eagerly followed with the blade the couple had given him when they trained him how to fight. Swords had clashed everywhere, for the ones who weren’t caught unaware, anyways. It seemed like blood stained everything, and Stanley had to shove it out of his mind to avoid throwing up. He fought with every technique he could remember, but it seemed like the Mogs were swarming toward him, targeting him. In the dream it was even worse_

_In the middle of another clash, he caught sight of Maddie. He quickly drove his blade through this Mog’s chest, before surging after her. There was a wicked smile on her face as she turned, easily weaving around the battles, untouched, like a ghost. Sandor screamed something at him- something he would never found out._

_One of the biggest Mog cut in front of him, looming over Stanley. His sword raised up to slice Stanley, who found himself frozen. And then Sandor was there, blocking the incoming sword with his own, screaming for Lexa. Stanley raised his blade, unfrozen now. His insides were being torn apart. Maddie or Sandor. He never had a chance to make the choice. Sandor glanced at him, and that was all that his opponent needed. He drove his blade through Sandor’s chest with that malicious smile that Stanley could never forget. Stanley screamed, dropping his blade as he reached for his uncle. Sandor, fell to his knees looking at Stanley in horror._

_In real life, the Mogs dragged him away before he could even truly hold his dying uncle, but in the dream the Mogs disappeared as Sandor died, and Stanley cradled his favorite uncle in his arms. Maddie stood over them, smiling softly like she’d just won a game, and whispered that one sentence that destroyed everything in her taunting almost laughing voice, “You’re my initiation Stanley.”_

_In his arms, Sandor tried to sit up and whispered one last thing to Stanley, “She was never worth it, Stanley, and you knew it. You let me die for nothing.”_

 

Stanley jolted up, gasping and shaking. Beside him Sam let out a little groan, predictably on the other side of the bed, and came back over, pulling Stanley back down. He was shaking and crying. Sam saw this every night, and Stanley felt ashamed of that. Maybe his father was right. _“I don’t care what happened Stanley! Just stop acting like you’re broken.”_

Sam never complained about it; he never tried to make Stanley feel bad about it, and right now, Stanley took advantage of that. He curled back into Sam. Sam was still half asleep, Stanley could tell by the way Sam put his face against Stanley’s neck as he murmured: “It’s okay, Stanley, it’s okay. You’re not there anymore. I got ya. I’ve always got ya. Sleep, now.”

Sam’s breath evened out, signaling that he was back to be fully asleep, wrapped around Stanley. The panic from the dream/memory was fading now, and he moved to wrap his arms around Sam as he took a deep breath. Sam was here. He wasn’t alone, and Sam wouldn’t ever leave him. Sam was his safe place; he was the one who could keep him grounded. It didn’t matter what Sam said; he wanted Sam, wanted everything Sam gave him. Sam just thought Stanley still had a chance… had a chance with a dead boy, because Five was the only one who could beat Sam in that race.

 His arms tightened slightly around Sam as his breath caught. Maddie had never been worth it, and because of his pursuit of her he lost Sandor and Lexa- his real family. He’d been acquainted with what might’ve been his true love just to lose him again. He might never had noticed Sam and everything that came with it. Everything that changed, that made him so different than he had been, came to that one moment of deciding to chase after Maddie, of taking the offer of going on that ship.

He fell asleep thinking about how it could’ve been different if he’d never gone after Maddie.

 

The streaming sunlight finally forced Stanley to stir. He threw his arm over his eyes to try and block the light disturbing him, and then it hit him; Sam wasn’t in his arms anymore. He bolted up, panic seizing his heart again as he frantically scanned the room. The glasses and books were gone, and on the pillow where Sam had been laying there was a little white note with Stanley’s name jotted on it- sharp and small.

With trembling fingers, Stanley picked the little note. What if last night- of Sam probably waking up entangled with Stanley had him running away? Maybe he really didn’t want to have anything to do with Stanley in that way. The panic was swelling up in Stanley worse than it had been last night, and Sam wasn’t here to take it away. He forced himself to open the little note. Sam’s handwriting graced the page, and Stanley had to read it three times because everything was a little blurry.

_Hey Stanley,_

_I know you’re probably pissed right now- well pissed and scared, but I think I know where my dad is. It’s dumb and dangerous and… it’d only get you hurt if I brought you. And I told you I’d protect you. This is my way of doing it without losing that hope that somewhere out there my Dad is alive, and that he didn’t run off. Don’t worry. I’ll be back, and I’ve got Stanley for protection- the horse obviously. And I’m not leaving the country._

_Sam Goode_

_P.S. Tell your horse to stop being so heartbroken that I’m taking his boyfriend out._

Stanley was tearing out of the bed before he could even think of what he was going to do especially since he really wanted to just curl up in agony, but he wasn’t useless; he wasn’t completely broken. And maybe his dad would never see that, but Sam did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he let Sam die too.

So he tore through the kitchen and out the door bare foot. Sam’s mom let out a little squeak of surprise as he raced past her. They never really talked a whole lot. Stanley kind of thought it might be because he made Patricia Good nervous. She wouldn’t be the only one- something Sam apparently adamantly tried to pretend wasn’t real.

Regal was housed right next to Stanley the horse. Sam had been a little annoyed about that at first, but Stanley had told him that Regal was incredibly lonely and only ever wanted Sam’s horse for company. The annoyance had only increased when it seemed like the two horses were actually taking a fancy to each other. Of course Stanley had commented that Regal could find plenty of other girl horses, and Sam had laughed as he shot back, “Face it, dude; your horse is gay.”

“Least he has great tastes.” Stanley had even winked at that one, making Sam blush as if he knew what Stanley was implying.

Regal was already at the stall door, anxious to leave; he knew his friend was gone, maybe in danger. Stanley silently cursed Sam and his obsession with finding his dad. It always added up to more trouble than it was worth, but he also knew he didn’t want Sam to lose that hope, that spark that Stanley wished he still had. He petted Regal’s nose, reassuringly as muttered, “Don’t worry, boy. We’re gonna go after them. He’s an idiot if he thought I was going to listen to that letter.”

Stanley saddled him as quickly as he could with Regal being extra helpful this morning, before mounting. The moment Stanley was on, Regal was taking off without any encouragement. They were going to find Sam, no matter what it took.


	3. Not Going to be Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this done. Expect the others to take much longer because I don't have anything on them.  
> I've changed the tags a little on this story to better fit what I have so far, which means that'll be updating as I update the chapters. I did that because I wasn't exactly sure which characters/relationships would actually show up or be mentioned.  
> Also I really don't like Emma and Maddie... just saying.

                Cody stared at the rose. He was supposed to find someone to fall for him before the year was up, and all he could think of was the prisoner that had been held next to him.

                _“I think I love you.”_

_Codyalmost smiled- or maybe he did. His hand pressed gently against their shared wall like maybe Nine was doing the same on the other side, and they were secretly touching. He leaned his head against the wall, opening his mouth to say that he knew how Nine felt. It wasn’t anything he could pinpoint, precisely, just this odd glow that he got from the other boy even in this demented place._

_Then he heard the door open, muffled by the wall. Everything in him clenched as he heard the scuffle and the sound of a body being roughly pushed into the wall- several times- that told him Ninewas at least fighting back. Cody bolted up, pressing his hands against their shared wall like if he only pushed hard enough he could go through it to Nine’s aid. Reasonably he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Even together they were no match for the Mogs._

_“Five!” Nine yelled, and Cody hears the hit as clear as if there wasn’t a wall between them. He only becomes aware that he’s been banging on the wall when he feels the stinging pain on his hands. It’s nothing compared to what they do to them._

_“Nine!” The door clangs shut, and Cody sinks to the ground, dimly aware of the tears touching his cheeks. “Don’t leave me.” But he knows nobody hears it because nobody responds. He’s alone. Just like he was before. The fear and panic wells up in him._

                It took a couple deep breaths for Cody to fight off the panic. He’s not there anymore. He’s been free for three years now. The nightmares never leave him. And now he’s cursed, supposed to get someone to fall in love with him while still hung up on the boy whose face he doesn’t even know. It’s pathetic. He was probably dead, anyways. After all the Mogs never brought Nine back after that whispered confession; _“I think I love you.”_ Cody never got a chance to tell him he was feeling the same, never got any more of that little happiness the other boy gave him.

                One year left before the curse became permanent, and Cody can’t get Nine out of his head to even have a chance at love.How pathetic was that? The real question was if he really wanted another chance at love? Saying no would doom everyone in this castle- not just him. But there wasn’t anyone he could even think that would be able to replace Nine or even come close.

                He sighed, feeling more depressed than when the curse had been cast. Actually he couldn’t have cared less after the curse had first been casted. It’d taken even John a couple weeks to get through to him and make him care. Not like it mattered. The one person Cody would’ve given a shot was out of his reach. Forever.

                If he could, he would go to war against the monsters that had the atrocity to call themselves humans. And if this were a fairy tale, he’d stumble upon Nine, still alive, and Nine’d kiss him and tell him that he always knew Cody would come back for him and that he loved him. Then the curse would break and…

But this was real life.

                Someone stepped through the main door, the movement silently rippling through the floor material he was mimicking. Part of the curse seemed to be that he was in tune to whatever was happening with the castle provided he was touching any bare skin to the wall or floors. He straightened, wondering if this stranger was going to be turned away by servants or if they were going to aid the intruder at his own discomfort again. He hated anyone disturbing him. He already knew he was a failure at almost everything. There was no need to rub it in further. Pity no one else in the house seemed to understand that.

                A brief flare of anger propelled him to finally break his three day isolation and storm down the halls. It could always just be Naveen coming back in from gardening. He eased back on his temper as he came down the stairs near the main doors.That was all it was. Naveen finally having enough of the plant life to try the companionship inside… even if it didn’t quite feel like it.

He could hear chatting as he neared the bottom of the stairs. He swore if Maren Elizabeth was trying to set him up again, he was going to throw her out and see just how well she faired. He didn’t need anyone! Hell, he didn’t even want anyone. They would never understand what he went through, and it would just be a painful reminder.

                “So you’re what? Ghosts?” An unfamiliar voice asked timidly, and Cody’s anger flared back up as he realized his first assumption was right.

                He stormed into the front room, growling, “What is going on here?”

                The timid voice- a boy- jumped into the air with a startled cry. John took human form long enough to catch the boy and glared annoyed at Cody before setting the boy on his feet and shrinking to the little white light he was stuck for the most part as. Interesting. John might be all about trying to teach Cody manners- which Cody used when he felt like it- and doing what was right, but normally he wasn’t so irritated by Cody’s usual mannerism. Maybe Maren was actually playing match maker with someone else besides Cody. A brief memory of how John and Naveen’s relationship turned out, quickly changed Cody’s mind about that being a good thing.

                “I-I’m sorry. I-I was just-just looking for my dad when the wolves attacked me and my horse- I sent him for help! I can be gone by the morning. Promise. Just don’t throw me to the wolves; it would kill Stanley,” the boy pleaded. He seemed excessively nervous, twisting the strap of his bag and staring wide-eyed at Cody.

Cody ignored the intruder’s ramblings and scolded his employees, particularly John because he was the only presence he could actively acknowledge. “You know I don’t like visitors.”

John zipped over closer to Cody as he argued, “He’s just a stray traveler that found his own way in, and being alone isn’t good for you. But you don’t have to acknowledge he’s here.” Cody could hear the silent accusation that he was doing so right now. “Just give him a night to stay.”

                “He wants to stay? Then let’s let him.Throw him in one of the dungeons,” Cody snarled before turning and stalking off. He could hear the unwanted visitor whimper as John’s light zipped in front of his king (though John still referred to him as a Prince, like by avoiding the use of the title he could avoid the circumstances that brought it about, that he could lure Cody into forgetting most of the past). His light was flickering, and his voice was kept only for Cody as he pleaded; “Don’t do this, Cody. You know you’ll regret it; the nightmares will come back.”

                “They never leave, John. Put him in the dungeon. Beyond that I don’t care.” Cody just wanted to go back to licking his wounds. John would come in later and talk to him in a way that always made Cody feel like he would be a much better king. Even as a child, everyone assumed that John was the real heir when they talked to the pair. Cody really wanted to hate him for that, but John had always been so faithful and soothing that most of the time it felt impossible. There’d even been a brief time that Cody wondered if he loved the other boy, but that’d been back when he had parents he wanted to please- back when he’d wanted to be the prince everyone wanted.

                Behind him, John briefly gave the orders to someone else- probably Maren- before annoyingly following Cody all the way to his room. Cody didn’t bother telling him to get lost. He wouldn’t be there at night when Cody really needed him; why would he be there any other time? This was just going to be some lecture about how to be the perfect king he’d long ago stopped trying to be. Or maybe another pep talk about finding someone to fall in love with and break the curse… not that that ever really came out of John’s mouth- at least not directly.

                “We’re not trying to hook you up with him, but…” John sighed. “You need to find someone. Not just for the curse- though Maren Elizabeth seems to think a quick fling that involves ‘I love yous’ would work. Which it won’t- but also because you hold everything inside. All you give us are lies and made up fantasies. By the way, you’ve gotten really good with your sarcasm.”

                Cody suppressed the half smile that wanted to come up at that. Even as a child he’d been really good at weaving believable tales that could fool everyone and slipping into worlds only he could see. It hadn’t been a good talent for the future king.

He turned to John. “Fine. You want something real? I learned a long time ago I was never going to be the perfect king, and you know what? I don’t care, anymore. I don’t want to be perfect!”

                John’s little light floated back in shock, and Cody took the opportunity to slam the door in his face. Of course John could just float right through the wood when he wanted to, but that hadn’t really been the point. Besides, John was nicer than that- more polite.

                Cody flopped face first down onto his bed, losing the connection to the rest of the castle. His body changed into the soft material of the comforters the moment he lost contact with the hard marble floors. He hated the feeling of his body changing materials. Some days it even felt like his body just chose to mimic everything he was touching all at once. Today wasn’t the worst in that aspect- wasn’t the best either.

                “If I let you, you’d stay in here pouting all day.” John’s voice came right beside Cody, and Cody jerked up to glare at the little white light who unapologetically continued, “You’ve never been much of a people person- unless it was me. It’s gotten worse since you came back.”

                Cody dipped his gaze away to stare at the comforter, trying to fight those memories. “I was a political prisoner for years, John. They killed my parents, your parents… most of the people in this castle. How can I stay the same- or be better with that kind of history constantly hanging over my head? There were things that happened there that I can’t get out of my head.”

                John took human form, shimmering pale against the darkness as he sat beside Cody, staring at the opposite wall; it must’ve been a really good day for his part of the curse. “You can’t- stay the same anyways. But this kingdom needs a leader, something to help them fight back. Without a king these people are vulnerable to the very same people that did this to you.” His ghostly hand reached out to touch the eye patch that covered Cody’s missing eyes. “I rescued you for a reason. Henri died for a reason. I hate to see it go to waste.”

                Cody pressed his face against his pillow, trying not to choke on that memory. _Cody bolted to his feet when the door to his cell opened. Smoke poured in from the door, and John appeared in the doorway coughing. His clothes were discolored from all the smoke, and he’d grown and filled out more in the years they’d been separated. Cody pressed his cotton swab against his eye, hardly daring to believe that his best friend had came for him, that anyone had came for him. He’d been here for so long that it seemed like that hope had long since died._

_“Hurry! Henri’s holding them off for a while,” John urged, between coughs. He reached in, grabbinga stunned Cody’s hand and pulling him out of the room, into the massive waves of heavy smoke and the crackling sound of fire and clanging of swords crossing._

_Orange light flickered at the far end of the corridor, and Cody could see the Mogadorians growling on the other side of the flames, pacing like caged animals. A shudder of trained fear rushed through him at the sight of the monsters that tortured him almost everyday for the past 3 years. John pulled him in the opposite direction, yanking him from the petrifying sight. Cody could see Henri down the opposite side, dancing with his sword as he brought swabs of Mogadoriansdown.Just the sight of him, made Cody breathe easier. Sure, he wasn’t the top fighter, but he didn’t mind dealing with Cody in the middle of the night when his parents barely stirred from their beds. Henri was the one that fight off Cody’s nightmares with John by his side. He stayed by Cody’s side through those nights and let John sleep right beside him. In some ways he was more a father to Cody than his own father was._

_They were only a few feet away when Henri missed one of the Mogadorian’s blades. It sliced deep into his side. John screamed, running to his adopted father’s side and letting go of Cody’s hand in the process. Cody stumbled down beside Henri, shaking with fear. He wished he was better equipped to aid John as he sliced through the Mogadorians, moving in ways Cody hadn’t seen before.Of course John had always been so much better at every royal activity than Cody was._

_In minute all the Mogs were all dead, and John collapsed at Henri’s s side. He grabbed his father’s hand, and Cody hesitantly reached his hand out to touch John’s shoulder. The blonde turned his head slightly to look at his best friend. Henri grabbed Cody’s other hand and linked it with John’s free one. “You two boys look after each other. You might not be related by blood, but I raised you as brothers.”_

_He died right in John’s arms from a wound that shouldn’t have been that deadly… if not for the Mogadorians practice in using poisoned blades. At least this one was fast. Cody shuddered to think of some of the slower poisons he’d seen the Mogs use on other prisoners- the kind that had them screaming for days._

_Cody and John collapsed against each other, briefly ignoring the alarms sounding, and the harsh Mogadorian language barking through the whole building in their grief. Henri might not have been the best soldier, but it was hard to find a better man- a better father. They needed this one moment. They didn’t get enough._

_Mogs rounded the corner bearing down on them, and they had fled, leaving Henri’s body in their awful grasps. They’d barely made it out of Mog territory alive and without getting captured. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so close if Cody could’ve actually fought._

“I’m sorry. You should’ve been a knight, a true noble instead of stuck in this castle like a servant,” Cody whispered through the lump in his throat.

John’s hand lifted Cody’s face. His gaze was gentle as he brushed the tears that had slipped from Cody’s eyes away. “It’s not your fault. I was close enough to stop them from taking you, and it took me years before I could even rescue you.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I kind of thought you held against me, and that’s why you were always so hostile afterwards.”

“I never knew. How were you even so close? I was sure I was alone- that they would’ve taken anyone else who was there.” Cody felt calmer now, just being in this moment with John, knowing how close things could’ve ended up. He was glad that John managed to avoid being captured like him; after all John was the one everyone really needed, anyway. Cody was just the title.

John shrugged, turning his gaze to the opposite wall. “I grew up in this castle, Cody. It’s practically my home as much as it is yours. Besides someone has to keep looking out for you.” He looked straight into Cody’s eyes. “What do you really want to be? When you said you didn’t want to be perfect anymore.”

Cody stared down at the bed, shame burning his ears. “I don’t know. I just know I don’t want this- everyone relying on me. You’re the one that’s really good at this stuff.”

John laughed and nudged him. “Ah the true reason you keep me around comes out.” His eyes shone brightly, and his form flickered back to the little white light, earning a little growl of annoyance from him. Cody stared at his friend a moment before quietly saying, “Maybe I just kept you around because you’re the only one that was willing to stick around.”

It was too hard to tell what John was thinking when he was just a little white light. He didn’t say anything either. Cody laid his head on the pillow, waiting for something, some sign of what was going through his best friend’s head.

“I’ve got to do something real quick.” The response seemed to come after an eternity, hesitant and unsure but with nothing else Cody could try to read into. He turned his head away as John floated out of the room and through the door, silently cursing himself for saying something with too much meaning again. Every time he said something like that to John it always led to John running off.

 

“Hey, Cody?” John’s whispered voice jolted Cody back from the weird half-asleep state he’d been in. For one weird moment, he thinks they’re kids again and that John wants to sneak outside and talk about things his parents try to keep shut up. Then he opened his eyes, and it all snapped back into place.

He sat up abruptly, hating the feeling of being the same material as the comforter. John floated back to give Cody space to put his feet back on the floor and hopefully leave most of the comforter feel behind. The marble only climbed halfway up his legs.

“Did you ever learn how to dance?” The question was so simple, and Cody had been thirteen when he’d been kidnapped, thirteen and with a girlfriend that seemed to somewhat care about that stuff. But there’d never been any formal teaching for either of them- all of their lessons had been taught together… until they weren’t. He couldn’t tell where John wanted to go with this line of questioning.

 “I tried once with Emma. She didn’t like it- said I had no skill at it. Never really bothered beyond that.”

John’s little light bobbed in a nod. “Reynolds taught me how to while you were gone- before the Mogs killed him too. It was his way of trying to make me feel better, I guess. I could teach you- I want to teach you, actually.”

“Practice for when you try to woo the unwelcome guest,” Cody teased with a half smile. A little tinkling laugh rang from the light.

“You smiled- just from me mentioning teaching you how to dance. I bet I could coax more from you if I taught you. It’d be worth it, Cody. The human boy has nothing to do with this,” John whispered in the same voice he used when he’d quietly suggest they just take a little dip in the water when he was sure the adults weren’t listening or when they’d secretly slip out a little boat just to blast through the waves.

Cody smiled softly, letting the past wash away to those older times when they were little boys pretending to dance alone in the huge ball room- giggling that they’d escaped their adult supervision again, to a time they were just kids running around laughing, to a time he’d felt a lot more carefree. The promise of dancing might not go anywhere, but it was a little bit of the past he wasn’t scared of.

 John took human form, sparkling like moonlight as he offered Cody his hand. Cody took it, letting John pull him up. For a moment they just stayed there, staring at each other like they were kids sneaking out again. Cody let his imagination to take light again as he tried to see everything from John’s eyes, tried to imagine what he must’ve seen before Cody’s parents ruthlessly tore him from his own home, from his own kingdom. The castle’s updates faded into the background as he wondered if John had personally seen what had happened to his own parents, tried to imagine what John had done when Cody’s parents had died and Cody was unaccounted for. Then he imagined John flying through the sky like a free spirit, offering to bring Cody up with him to see the world from the star’s view.

“What do you think about?” John whispered. “When you get that far away look in your eyes- what are you thinking about?”

“I’m imagining what it’s like to be you.” The bare truth didn’t scare Cody that much when it seemed it was just the two of them in the safety of dark- like nobody else could hear them, berate Cody for saying something like that.

John’s eyes shined sadly. “Just don’t forget you are somebody too, Cody. A very special somebody that will win hearts that I will never be able to.” Cody didn’t know what to say to that- false or otherwise. There was too much weight in his friend’s eyes that would’ve had Cody screaming about a dragon that John needed to duck from when they were so much younger just to get him to laugh.

 

                Anxiety tugged at Cody, making him want to run back up the stairs as John threw open the ballroom doors. He hadn’t gone into the room once since he came back. Almost everyone had been gone at that point- brutally murdered by the Mogs. As far as he knew, no one else had went in there either. It was an unspoken tomb to the adults that had once strolled alongside them, to the memories of Reynolds spinning with his boyfriend as they laughed, to the childish game they’d played when they thought the adults weren’t paying much attention to them. It was a tomb to the past they’d been forced to leave behind.

                Dust coated every surface now, puffing up a little when the door swept across the floor. It looked exactly like a haunted memory, forgotten for years. Light didn’t pour into the room as strongly as it used to, and no one else stood on the floor waiting for them, even the music that swirled in the air seemed haunting.

                Cody let another story weave itself in this one’s place. When John and Cody turned sixteen they were supposed to walk in here, side by side, like real brothers. They were supposed to be truly crowned as princes, heirs to thrones. There would’ve been so many people here that Cody would’ve been glowing, pretending that every single one of them were here for him. The room asparkle with light and magic that spoke of some great destiny. John would give him a reassuring smile right before they were both crowned…

                But Cody had been in Mog’s prison when they had turned sixteen.

                John gave a sheepish smile before turning into a glowing light. Cody at least had a human form to him, even if he sometimes worried about magnets or was terrified of taking baths because he felt like melting. He really had no idea what he would do if he was insubstantial most of the time. He didn’t want to know what he’d have done without John either.

_“He’s your son! You can’t just… you can’t just throw him out because he’s not what you want!” John screamed, throwing himself between Cody and his parents. They’d only known each other for a year, only six years old._

_“You’re nothing but a remnant of prince John Smith, and even that is more than Cody will ever be able to pull off.” His mother cut her scathing eyes at Cody, and he felt himself trying to shrink behind John’s back. “Maybe you teach him a thing or two, because until he learns what being a prince is truly about I will never pass my family crown to him.” She’d strode off, like that was all there was to her son’s existence, like she hadn’t been trying to shove him onto some passing merchant._

_John turned around the moment she was gone and put his arms around Cody. “I’m not going to ever let anyone hurt you. You’re worth more than any of them. You have more strength than they give you credit, and one day, I know, you’re going to show them. You’ll be an amazing king.”_

                “John?” Cody didn’t dare set a foot into the room yet, not until he cleared something up. “What happened when you turned sixteen?”

                They might always celebrate their birthdays together, but everyone knew that John was at least a couple months older.

                John just floated in the middle of the room for a moment, before he answered in a strained voice. “Nothing happened Cody. I was too busy looking for you to let anything happen.” Cody knew he was lying, but he didn’t dare call him out- was unsure if he really wanted to know how his parents reacted to his absence now that the question was out there? So he dared to take his first step into the ball room, staring at the forgotten room with its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows and the beautifully carved wood arches…

                Cody closed his eyes and let the memories ripple through him. There had always been so many parties. John was the picture of what his parents wanted, quiet and polite, full of sophistication, and Cody hated that. He’d always ended up hiding behind the pillars and trying to coax John into playing with him. _“Come on John. The dragons are surrounding us,” Cody called to his friend. John looked up at Henri hesitantly, but the older man just laughed and nudged John over to Cody. “It’s okay to still be a kid, John. Go. Play. I’ll handle everything else.” And John ran right over to Cody, grinning and ready to laugh._

_“Come on Cody. Try again,” John told him softly, play sword still in his hands. The ballroom was deserted except for them now, but Cody didn’t want to keep doing this. He flopped onto the floor and glared at John. “I’m not going to get any better at this. I don’t know why you keep trying.”_

_John sighed and carefully sat beside him, more delicate and prince-like than Cody could ever manage. He put an arm around Cody’s shoulder. “And you can’t get any better if you don’t keep at it. I’m not doing this to make you feel inadequate, Cody. I’m doing this so I know you can protect yourself if you ever get in a position where I can’t protect. It’s going to be the only thing I can hold on to. Besides you’ve got things you’re good at- far better than me. And they all know it, envy you even. I know I wish I could be more like you.”_

_Cody glared at him. “Easy for you to say. Everyone loves you. I’m just the prince that everyone thinks is the biggest joke in the world.”_

_“I don’t. I think you’re the only boy in this whole world that would’ve been able to bring me back from losing all hope. You’re why I can have so much faith in anything, the reason I can even think to behave like a child. In fact without you goading me into it, I don’t think I’d even play anymore. Now come on, let’s try again, Mr. Slayer of Dragons.”_

_Cody ducked his head in a blush. “It’s just pretend.” But he got to his feet again._

_“Come on John! It’s fun!” Cody had already skidded halfway through the ballroom, but John stayed in the doorway eyeing the newly waxed floor with a hint of fear._

_“What if I fall?” He asked, looking up at Cody with a helpless expression._

_“Then I’ll catch you.”_

_Cody held onto Emma as they tried to navigate the empty ballroom. She wasn’t dressed like a princess, which Cody kind of blame the bad mood she had on, but it wasn’t like he had some sister to borrow clothes from, and he didn’t dare go near his mother’s room. The music playing was exactly like the balls he had to suffer through, and it made him want to cringe._

_“You don’t know how to dance,” Emma finally announced when he accidentally stepped on her toes again. “What kind of prince doesn’t know how to dance?”_

_“I never really had anyone teach me,” Cody tried to defend, but it sounded weak even to his ears, and Emma pulled back looking disgusted._

Cody tried to push that memory back, tried to ignore the way his chest ached with it as well. It was only supposed to be a room, but standing right in the center of it… it felt like something more. It felt like all the pretend wars he fought with John in were echoing around him, like he could see the burnt fields and the fire that leapt from the ground, hearing the remaining screams.

“It’s been a while,” John murmured, pulling Cody back from something that didn’t even exist. He turned to see John taking a human form again, seeming more solid than he had since the curse as he gazed around the room with a sad wistfulness. Their childhood days of peace were long since gone, and it hit home harder with Cody than it had ever before.

John gave him a small apologetic smile. “I haven’t been here in almost as long as you have. With you gone… it just seemed to remind me more. No one tried dragging me back either. Guess it didn’t look good when I burst into tears the first time. Thought about cleaning it out since then, but… maybe it’s better this way.”

Cody swallowed, feeling his face burn at the thought that John had missed him that much- that anyone had. He looked away, staring at the dust covered windows. Glimpses of the morning sun shone through, mere gold than anything solid, and Cody traced the pattern it left in the air with his eyes.

“You don’t have to teach me to dance, you know. Certainly not here.” He wasn’t even sure how he wanted John to respond- whether he wanted to leave this room with all its haunting memories or if he wanted to face it, wanted to have one day where he didn’t feel like he was drowning in a past he couldn’t change.

“No. I want to do this. Trying to forget it won’t help. And I can’t do this with anyone else. It won’t take it away, won’t help any.” Somehow John managed to sound more together, more sure of himself than Cody ever could.

“You’re a better person than I am.”

John laughed and suddenly was tilting Cody’s face to look at him. “I’m not better; I’m not worse. I’m just different. We see things different ways. You can forget what everyone thinks far easier than I ever could. If I was to rule, it’d only be a matter of time before I broke under the pressure- trying to please everyone, to make the right decisions and beating myself up for every loss lost every mistake that I may or may not have been able to prevent. You don’t care about any of that. You always knew how to get me to stop thinking so much, to take a break and just breathe. Now it’s my turn.”

 

                Dancing wasn’t hard with John. Cody wondered if John just made it easy or if he so effortlessly covered Cody’s mistake that Cody couldn’t tell he made them. He didn’t travel down that line of thought any further than that, especially with the haunting tune spinning them around like they were a couple of ghosts stuck between life and death, never able to get their happy ending.

                John pulled him closer, finally breaking the eerie quiet between them in a whispered voice. “I was thinking we could throw a ball. You could find someone to love you a lot easier than you can now if there are more people. Show me that this is you’re kingdom- not your parents or anyone else’s.”

                Cody felt his whole body growing tensed as his breath fled in a hurry from his chest. John didn’t seem to notice that Cody was vividly remembering how it felt to have Emma plunge a knife into his chest- how it felt to think he was going to die then, and how it felt to know his parents weren’t going to pay any ransom to get him back.

                A ball meant strangers. A ball meant people he didn’t know if he could trust. A ball would be what his parents would do. A ball came with expectations he would never be able to fulfill. Everyone would see him for the fraud he was. He swallowed. He couldn’t do it- he just couldn’t. He couldn’t go through that kind of pain again.

                He pulled away from John, trying to suck in as much air as he could. John let him, intently studying Cody’s face like he could read his very soul. Cody hated that thought and tried to look away, but John was forcing him to look at him and pulling him into a loose embrace. “You know you don’t have to, right Cody? It was just a thought. If the curse never breaks it doesn’t matter, okay? None of that matters. I will fight for you as my king no matter what anyone else says or thinks. I just thought you might want something to cement your rule- something to through this all back in your patents face.”

                They weren’t moving, just standing there while Cody trembled against John’s chest. The panic was starting to recede a little bit just by hearing John’s voice, feeling safe in his best friend’s arms. He took a couple deep breaths before resting his head against John’s chest and trying not to feel like a complete failure that he needed his best friend to even stand up right, like he was some lovesick girl wanting to be swept off her feet and afraid that the boy didn’t really love her. He despised that. That wasn’t him.

                “I used to think I was in love with you.” The words just poured out of Cody’s mouth without permission and he jerked back, panic coming right back over him, what had he been thinking, letting that big secret out.

                John didn’t seem at all bothered by it, just continued rubbing Cody’s back like he was a small child having a nightmare- Cody couldn’t even remember when he started doing that. “Yeah? When we were younger?”

Cody nodded, not daring to look up at John’s face. John made a soothing humming sound, like he was thinking and wanted to Cody to know it wasn’t in a bad way. “I think I knew. You were always following me around with these bright adoring eyes. It made me feel really protective of you. Henri commented on it once, said I always seemed to be holding you. I told him you needed protecting, like my parents had once needed, and that I wasn’t going to be the one to let you down, especially when you seemed to think I was so perfect. He told me that you were like that because your parents thought I would make the perfect king- that it was the real reason they took me away that day. I think they would’ve killed me otherwise- it was I always tried to be… perfect I guess as you call it. I still told him that it was ridiculous- I’d die too young because I was too nice and trusting.”

It felt too real- too harsh of a reminder of what Cody’s parents had done to John. They’d left death with everything they touched, and they’d love it. When Cody thought of them it was in a fiery throne room, cruel laughter bouncing off the walls while their citizens burned alive with blood curling screams. Even as a child he’d wake up crying dreaming about that.

“Yeah. Well that was back when I actually cared about what they thought of me- when I actually thought there was any way I could make them look at me like they looked at you. I mean I do love you just not like. Guess it’s not exactly enough to break the curse.”

                John pulled back with a forced laugh. “I think that’s enough heart to heart for the night.”

                It seemed like such an odd thing for John to say, but when Cody looked up he could see the bareness in John’s eyes, a vulnerability and fear that Cody used to believe John didn’t have. He let it go, dropped from John’s embrace and walked off like the moment hadn’t happen. He could almost feel John staring at him as he left, pictured him breaking down in the ballroom crying for reasons Cody couldn’t figure out. He was so used to thinking that John was so good at everything that he never wondered what John might’ve been holding in- never wondered if maybe John needed to be healed even more than Cody did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I picture Reynolds dancing with Zane- Lexa's brother, and Zane pretty much dies in Lexa's arm sending her on a bit of rampage... I don't know if this actually show up or not, but it's just what I was thinking.


	4. Death to Traitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late on posting. This chapter didn't turn out the way I thought it would. It was supposed to just be Adam's story, but then I put John in, and.... I did not see this happening.  
> On the bright side: Adam  
> Also I don't picture the Mogs being very accepting.  
> Next Chapter: Nine and Five meet again, but of course they don't know.

They were technically supposed to be at the new terminal, upgrading the technology used in all the wars, but Adam didn’t give half a damn about any of that. He would come down and cover what needed to be done in the morning; there was no need to waste a perfectly good night. Of course, he didn’t think Arsis had the same view, but he was easily swayed otherwise.

                “Adam.” It was little more than a hiss, but Adam quickly silenced it with a gentle kiss, trying to soothe his partner. Any noise could attract attention and getting caught not working would be bad enough, but being caught making out with another male would be bound to get them signed up for guinea pig duty, and Adam already had a long list of past offenses; his own father was itching to have him shipped off- permanently.

                Arsis happily sighed, hands tangling in Adam’s hair. Of the two of them, Arsis probably had the most internal problems with liking other guys. Adam never really cared about what his people thought; he loved going against them, being the counter of everything they believed.

                He kissed right below Arsis’s jaw making the other boy gasp and quietly hiss, “How in the Beloved’s name are you so good at this?”

                “Shh… I don’t want to get caught,” Adam whispered, putting a finger against his lover’s lip.

                “I’d think you were crazy if you did,” Arsis pouted, but he all but melted when Adam went back to softly kissing his neck. The one thing Adam knew about Arsis was that it was a lot better to take it slow, to be gentle, than to make it quick and reduce the time window they could be caught in.

                He carefully slid his hands under Arsis’s shirt, tracing gentle patterns on his skin as he did. Arsis breathed out a happy breath that was on the verge of a hum, and his eyes fluttered shut. Adam pulled back for a moment, pushing Arsis shirt up, just little, not enough to actually come off but enough to expose most of his lover’s stomach. Arsis looked up at him with half-opened eyes, whispering in his softest voice, “I feel like I should be doing something more for you. I’m an awful lover, aren’t I?”

                Adam leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss on Arsis’s lips before whispering against them, “You’re perfect.”

                Arsis sighed and tilted his head back for a moment. Adam took the moment to look as his lover’s form highlighted by the moonlight that seeped through the blinds. If it wouldn’t be too much evidence against them, Adam would’ve captured the way Arsis looked in the moonlight in paint. Of course, he looked a thousand times better in that light when he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but Adam knew he had to go slow when it came to undressing Arsis. It didn’t matter so much about undressing himself. Arsis would blush at seeing Adam naked suddenly, but he wouldn’t try to pull away. More often, he’d touch Adam himself, gentle timid touches like he didn’t really want Adam to notice he was doing anything.

                Adam sat up and pulled his shirt off in one quick move, not failing to notice the way, Arsis’s gaze traveled over his now bare chest. He kissed him again, whispering against Arsis’s lips, “You can touch if you want. I don’t mind.”

                And then Arsis’s hands were on Adam’s bare back, pressing harshly against his skin as he arched his stomach in an attempt to get their bare skin to touch. Adam almost forgot how much more eager and ready Arsis was when Adam undressed first. He slipped his hands under Arsis’s shirt, carefully slipping it up even further.

                Arsis’s breathing sped up. “You can take it off.”

                Adam smirked as he kissed underneath Arsis’s jaw and promptly obeyed, tossing the shirt next to Adam’s discarded one. Arsis was already starting to squirm the moment their bare chests came into contact, panting. Adam let out a careful low moan, already wanting more. Arsis’s hands were pressing harshly into his skin, and Adam was kissing his mouth harshly, one hand at Arsis’s neck and the other one traveling down lower.

                And then the door busted open. They leapt apart instinctively, but it was already too late. Ivan was sneering at them with the General looking on in disgust. Adam felt his body briefly burn with shame, but it quickly faded when he remembered Marsy, the beautiful village girl that had healed him after his father- the General- had mercilessly beaten him for helping a fellow Mog up. Ivan had killed her with a dark, knowing grin.

                “I should’ve known,” the General sneered looking at the two boys. He glanced at Ivan approvingly. “Thank you for informing me of this… incursion. Son.”

                Adam bit back the nasty words that came to mind. Ivan wasn’t even related to them by blood. He was just an orphan on the never-ending wars the Beloved raged, and the General favored him more than his own son. It didn’t surprise Adam; he had never been the son the General had wanted while Ivan was the perfect image of what a Mog should be.

Arsis hid as far behind Adam as he could get, like maybe the General would just look over him if his disgraced son was all he saw, or maybe he just wanted Adam to protect him from what had been his idea in the first place. If he’d been any better at a blade, Adam might’ve too, because Arsis was his lover now, and he would protect him in a way most Mogs didn’t seem to understand.

 

                Adam marched down the hall with his head held high like he was being lead to his actual execution, something that would probably be less messy than what his father was leading him toward right now. They wanted to attempt fusing power into him- something that had left many twisted burned bodies behind. Adam’s only chance of survival was that he had actually studied witchcraft with Marsy’s girlfriend before she had stood up against the Mogs with her magic and been slaughtered.

                The image of Amelie’s body’s pierced by a blade from behind echoed so vividly in Adam’s mind that he swore he was back there, that he could hear her brother, Archer, scream in agony and rage. He could feel the waves of magic rolling off the man, could see the devastation of blackened earth all around Archer and the dead bodies. He could feel Akiva, his first lover, above him with his sweet smile and sad eyes. He’d taught Adam everything, and yet he’d whispered to Adam that night that he had to leave, with a broken Archer. _“We can’t stay here, Adam. Your people bring only death. I hope that someday you break away from them. I’ll be waiting for you when you do.”_

                The General shoved Adam into a chair where he was strapped down. Not one of them gave him any sympathies, gave him any more curtsey than a piece of furniture. He might as well have been invisible. A rage started to burn in Adam, undeniable and powerful. Every spell he’d learned burned underneath his skin aching to get out, but he knew he couldn’t unleash it yet. He was going to burn them down, but he was going to do it smart, in a way they couldn’t get back up from.

“I will survive, and I will kill you,” Adam hissed at his father, tears streaming down his face from the memories. He wouldn’t be like the others that begged for their lives or claimed that there had been a mistake or just stood and took it. No. He wasn’t like any of the others, and he wasn’t going to die like them either.

The General sneered at him. “How noble. I’ll be sure to remind you of that when I put a sword through your body _if_ you survive.” And then the doctor slipped a needle into Adam’s skin and all Adam knew was pain.

 

John curled up in the library, or rather he found himself in light form hovering over a chair like he could curl up in. His energy was drained from maintaining a corporeal form for so long to dance with Cody, but it was worth it if only to see Cody opening up. He didn’t think it was a good idea to go visit their new guest and try to make him feel welcome despite the cage. He didn’t want to try to sleep because that’s when the nightmares would start, the dreams of Cody being hurt because of him and so much blood.

His light dimmed barely throwing any light into the room. It happened whenever he was really upset or terrified. He always made sure that Cody never saw it; it’d only freak him out, and then he’d just blame himself. The last thing John really wanted was Cody to sink back into that depressive pit he’d worked so hard to get him out of. Especially since John was such a traitor to him.

The memories came pouring back in, and John trembled against the on slaughter, the reminder of what he’d done. Cody gone, his parents dead, and everyone desperate to look to someone as their leader. Their gaze just naturally fell on John, and John accepted it. Cody’s sixteenth birthday, and John was getting crowned, taking his place. He stood strong and firm for his subjects, told them of his plans. It was only in his room that he broke down, grief and pain and shame welling up in him. He had been there when Cody was taken. He’d protected Cody from the parents that wanted the crown away from him. Both instances John betrayed him. He didn’t save Cody from the Mogs. He took Cody’s crown because he was gone, the way Cody’s parents had always wanted and made known that they had wanted it. And Cody could never know because he would always try to hold himself in comparison to the king John had been in that brief time. He probably wouldn’t even see or understand the betrayal.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Marina’s gentle voice pulled John out of his downward spiraling thoughts. His little light bobbed up, and Marina smiled as she took a seat in the chair right beside him. The curse hadn’t changed her that much, just made her appear like a frost spirit with her hair floating around her.

John sighed and floated lower to the chair. “I still come here to think.”

Marina snorted softly. “Don’t lie to me John. You come here to hide, to stay away from people.”

He focused on the far wall filled with shelves of book, wishing he could take make his body, but he lived it with it. The curse was their lives now, and he would bare it for Cody, bare it to make up for his betrayal. _Cody tiptoed into the room, but John knew he was there. He looked up from the book he’d been reading and smiled at the shy little ten year old. John set the book aside, and Cody crept closer. John was patient as Cody perched on the edge of the chair John was in, almost touching. “Mom was talking about getting me lost in the woods. Said there were plenty of things to eat me out there. She stopped when Dad mentioned you. Even now, you protect me, and I’m not worth that much. Why do you- why?”_

_He looked at John with those pleading eyes. John wrapped his arms around the chubby little boy. Five curled up into John’s chest as he whispered fiercely to the other boy that had become so close to him. “You’re like a little brother to me, Cody. I am not going to let anything happen to you, especially your parents.”_

“John.” Marina pulled him back from the memory, and John gasped with renewed pain. He’d let Cody down in so many ways.

“I don’t always hide here, Marina,” John whispered. “Cody comes here sometimes. We’re here sometimes. It’s a good place to find books. Besides there’s a guest in the dungeon that needs some food and maybe some blankets.”

Marina blinked in surprise, but John was already leaving before she could say anything. He might as well visit their attractive guest and try to make him feel more welcome, even if he was in the dungeons.

 

“You know this is a surprisingly comfortable dungeon,” their guest commented, sprawled out on the cushion metal platform bolted to the wall. It was as decked out as any of their beds, and the next door cell had been converted into a private bathroom with solid walls. There was even a bookshelf with various books in the cell. It still had bars and locks, though.

John floated into the cell next to him. “It makes Cody a little more comfortable. We never got the chance to really introduce ourselves. I’m John.”

“Sam. I’m from Paradise. It’s a village from the sea, though it’s really not that much of a paradise,” their guest responded, blushing as he looked at John’s little light. “I’d offer you my hand, but… I’m not sure how you’d shake it.”

John tried to take on a corporeal form again, but it sputtered out, and John tried to give him a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t have enough energy to take form again. I’m stuck in this form until I do.”

“Oh.” Sam whispered, brightening even more and looking awkward.

John’s light bobbed in a shrug. “Yeah. It sucks sometimes, but I deal with it. Who’s Stanley by the way?”

Sam almost choked and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Um… my horse? And this guy who keeps hitting on me who’s a bit of a jerk and also kind of my only friend. Well, I guess I’m kind of his only friend now too, unless you count our horses who are shacking up with each other.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, slowly turning an even deeper shade of red that John found amusing.

“The catch all name, huh?” John asked sympathetically. “But if he’s such a jerk, why do you hang around him, even if he is your only friend?”

Sam looked down, his whole demeanor seeming to change, making the blush die down. “He tries to protect me, so he’s not really that big of a jerk. It’s an act to try and convince everyone that he’s okay. He’s not, though. I think that’s part of why I hang around him. We have this tentative understanding of each other. He’s never hurt me in any way. In fact, sometimes he’s the one that builds me up.”

“And he’s a jerk.” For some reason it made him think of Cody since he came back. He was a jerk to everyone, but he had a hidden layer of caring that kept John so close to him. Well that and the overwhelming guilt for betraying him, for not being able to protect him.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s true,” Sam protested, and John wished he could see the smile he was wearing. Instead he hovered closer to him, whispering in Sam’s ear, “Trust me, I know. My best friend’s like that. Well, he’s more of a jerk now than he was before. Something really bad happened to him, changed him. He was a lot more insecure before.”

Sam hummed and tilted his head back to look at John. He bobbed back to let Sam see him easier. Sam seemed to look him over before asking, “Your best friend is the king?”

John’s light turned pink in a blush. “We grew up together. We’re like brothers, playmates when we were younger. His name is Cody.”

Sam nodded. “What happened to you guys?”

John bobbed further away toward the bars as his light pulsed, unnerved about telling their guest what had happened a year ago. Maren would’ve suggested telling him and trying to set Cody up with him. Maybe he’d break the curse. But John wanted to keep the curly haired boy for himself.

“A couple year ago, an enchantress came to our door. Cody had changed by then. He’d withdrawn, wasn’t sleeping, didn’t want anything to do with us. The enchantress was disguised as an old, poor woman, not that it really mattered; Cody never saw her,” John started, his light dimming as he remembered what happened, how it was his fault.

_John opened the door, more annoyed by the insistent knocking than he would ever show. Cody was upstairs resting, and he’d been watching over the new king, soothing him like he had as a child. Their visitor had interrupted that, probably sending Cody into another gruesome nightmare._

_An old woman covered in a tattered blanket peered up at him, hand frozen in a knock. John kept up a polite expression as he blatantly lied for Cody. “Our king is not seeing any visitors. You can try a nearby village for help.”_

_He tried to close the door, but her hand reached out and stopped it with more force than John thought she had. Before his eyes she transformed, growing taller, more elegant with glimmering wings and a wand. Her crystal blue eyes bore into him, and voice was as strong and clear as pure glass. “John Smith. I’ve heard of what has happened here, to your king, to your people. I came here with an offer to help as your revered Legacy, instead you have rebuffed me.”_

_“I didn’t mean-“ John protested with wide eyes._

_The door fell open, and Legacy narrowed her eyes at him. “I know. You did in your attempt to play protector to your king, your chosen brother. It’s why I offer a chance of redemption. In two years time, both you and your king must find someone to love who loves you back. In the meantime, all of you will receive a gift that will feel more like a curse. If you succeeded, you will keep the gifts, but they will be within your control. If you fail, I will take you, and your friends will live with the curse.”_

_She vanished in a blue glimmer as the curse settled over the grounds. John collapsed to the floor in tears as his body melted into a little light._

_“Well, you royally screwed that up,” Maren commented, and though John looked, he couldn’t see her or what form she might’ve taken._

_“Don’t tell Cody of this. All he needs to know is to break the curse he has to find love in the next two years,” John warned her, feeling the steel come back into him. This was his fault, he was going to fix it._

_“And you,” Maren reminded him._

_“Just let me handle that part of it.”_

                “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” Sam rushed to say, breaking John from the memory. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

                John took on a human appearance again and gave Sam a wan smile. “It is hard to talk about. Maren sometimes tries to get me to- she’s invisible. We got cursed that day, and it can only be broken by love- romantic love I believe. She didn’t specify, but we’ve tried other kinds of love.”

                Sam’s face fell. “Is that what your invisible friend meant by throwing me at him?”

                John gave him an apologetic smile and turned back into a ball of light, already drained. He needed  to look over Cody again as he slept, make sure he was okay, fight the nightmares that plagued his little brother for as long as he could.

                “Good night John,” Sam softly called after him, and a fluttery feeling warmed his stomach. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone be gently nice to him, not the hidden insecure nice that Cody gave him or the teasing “nice” Maren and Naveen gave him or the counseling nice of Marina.

                He froze in the middle of the dungeon hall and after a moment, whispered softly back, “Good night, Sam.”

 

                Cody was sprawled out on his stomach, reflecting the dark silk sheets that covered his bed. He’d thrown out all the comforters for his bed, complaining about how they made him feel. John hovered over him as if he was his guardian angel as if he hadn’t taken his crown while he was gone. The guilt was there, just not as overwhelming. He didn’t save his little brother from the Mogs, he betrayed him in his time of need, and…. He couldn’t break the curse, despite how hard he’d tried, how it was his fault they were cursed in the first place.

_John had been outside the room when Cody had cried himself to sleep after finally facing the reality of the curse, and John had just stayed outside and listened, instead of going in there and comforting him like a good brother. Doing that would mean having to face his own guilt in knowing this had been his fault._

_He took a deep breath and slipped through the door, floating toward Cody. The young king blended right into the covers, sprawled out and chubby again like he hadn’t been when John had finally came for him. The tears glimmered in his eyes as he took human shape, sitting on the edge of Cody’s bed. Cody didn’t stir, and John leaned down, kissing his forehead, and brushing his hair from his forehead just as Cody started whimpering from a nightmare._

_“Shh… little brother. I’m here for you; I’m always going to be here for you. And I’m going to do everything I can to make up for what I’ve done to you.” He kissed Cody’s temple, and with every bit of his heart, added. “I love you, and I promise, everything I’ve done since you were taken has been to bring you back here where you belong.”_

_Cody stilled as if even asleep he could feel John’s soothing presence. He waited, half expecting the curse to break, because he did love Cody, and he knew Cody loved him back, but the curse didn’t break. It didn’t take their love. John sighed and kissed Cody’s forehead in slight mourning of failing him again before turning back into a ball of light and floating out of the room. Cody didn’t need to know about the failed attempt. John wasn’t going to give him that heartache._

“Nine,” Cody moaned in the midst of a fitful nightmare. It was the same name he murmured almost every night. The name could come with the most peaceful nights or the worst nightmares. John knew that Cody didn’t think they knew about Nine, but it was almost a habit for John to watch over his little brother while he slept.

Cody let out a soft sigh, and John hovered closer to him, wishing he could curl protectively around Cody like he could when he was human. It was the one thing he missed most with the change: the inability to be able to hold Cody whenever he needed the comfort. He could deal with everything else, except that.

His light expanded, wrapping around Cody’s body as if sensing his need to protect his king. Cody hummed in content as if he could sense John’s light wrapping around him. And it was like all the tension building in John just melted away with that little noise, and he was falling into oddly colored dreams without realizing it.

 

                Adam stirred, slowly rising to consciousness with Akiva’s face fixed in his mind. He half expected to open his eyes to find his first lover hovering over him with that gentle smile as he pushed Adam’s hair out of his face. Then his memories caught up with him, and he felt an electric well of anger rise over him, like he could devastate a whole battlefield of his loveless people.

                “You’re awake,” An eager voice noted, hurrying over to Adam’s bedside. Adam turned his head to note Dr. Anu looking at him with fascination, before taking a seat in a chair beside his bed with a clipboard and pen. “You threw the magic off you like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Vaporized the General on the spot. It zipped through the whole building. I’ve heard even your conspirer survived because of it.”

Dr. Anu sounded like he thought Adam might’ve been a god, which made Adam more than a little uncomfortable. He didn’t like the idea of being raised as an idol by his blood lusting people. He’d prefer to be a witch of a gypsy.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Anu’s attention turned to his clipboard with the same fascination as if Adam were just a test subject that had shown promising results. It oddly soothed him, to think the world was still the way he’d left it, and all at once Adam’s promised plan for vengenance came to him.

“Like I’m ready to serve the Beloved in whatever way he needs me to.” The dark smile he gave the so-called doctor was every bit as real as the doctor believed, even if what he said wasn’t. The General was already dead; Arsis was still alive. There wasn’t much more to do on his checklist, not many more people to take care of. For one of the first times, Adam felt a darkness that always seemed to belong only to his people well up in him, but unlike with the others, it wasn’t directed by the “Beloved Leader,” and that made it all the more dangerous.

 

                Cody woke up, feeling better than he could remember feeling in years. He knew what he would find before his eyes, well he vaguely knew. He hadn’t expected to be completely blanketed in John’s silvery light- that had never happened before- but he had expected John to be sleeping beside him or watching over. _Cody felt a brush on his forehead. He sighed, feeling the gesture as comfort instead of a threat. There was a disturbance in the air that startled him awake with the sudden realization that it hadn’t been a dream, but whoever had been there was gone, without ever opening the door. John. Cody smiled in spite of himself at how just… typical of John to play the big brother._

                He rolled out of the protective light, putting his feet on the castle floor and connecting with the castle again. Information poured in, and he stilled as he realized someone else was in the castle, someone else was down in the dungeons. He stormed out of the room, still only wearing the underwear he’d slept in. This was his castle now, and he couldn’t let strangers into it, couldn’t let _that_ happen all over again.


	5. Chapter 4: A Traitor's Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley and Cody finally meet and fight.  
> Adam sets his revenge plan against the Mogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than others. I'm kind of stuck on it. If you have anything you'd like to see in this story, let me know. Maybe it'll give me a little more to push on. Also if you have any comments on how to make this chapter a little better, please let me know.

Stanley knelt by the cell- or rather the room with bars. It didn’t look anything like the cells he’d been kept in when he’d been the Mog prisoner. Sam seemed rather comfortable in it too, just sitting on the padded bed silently watching Stanley. Annoyance prickled down his spine. He’d come all this way to save him, and Sam wasn’t even trying to help him, didn’t even seem to notice the panic that he’d sent Stanley in.He’d left a letter that said as much that he knew his disappearance would send Stanley in a panic like a simply letter could calm him.

                “You are going to be in so much trouble when Cody comes down,” A female voice idly remarked, and Stanley didn’t leap up with a girly squeal.

Sam _did_ laugh. “I got locked up in a haunted castle. It’s hysterical.”

Stanley glared at him, biting his tongue on the remarks he wanted to snap back. They would reveal too much to the foreign presence. He had been a prisoner; he still had nightmares about it that Sam got to sooth him from. It wasn’t a joking matter; it wasn’t hysterical.

The next moment, Sam sobered up like he realized what that might mean to Stanley. He reached forward and grabbed Stanley’s hands, gently murmuring against his ear- or as close as he could get with the bars in the way. “I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t anything like you went through. I’m just trying to cope with it.”

His thumb was gently rubbing a circle on the back of Stanley’s hand, and Stanley focused on the way his thumb moved. Sam could say that Stanley didn’t really love him, just wanted to experiment, but he wanted Sam deeper than he had wanted even Maddy. Another hand came up to brush against Stanley’s cheek that touched cooling tears. He met Sam’s gentle gaze, and for a moment he could imagine they were back in Sam’s room after a nightmare.

“Ms. Invisible girl, can you give us a moment?” Sam softly asked, not looking away from Stanley. Stanley tensed as he remembered their unwelcomed observer.

“Name’s Maren Elizabeth, pretty boy. And you two don’t have much time to play lovey-dovey. And won’t John be so disappointed.”

Sam’s face glowed a bright red, and Stanley felt a sting of bitterness and jealousy. Sam was gone for a couple days and somehow he’d found someone to make him blush like this, someone who… who could replace Stanley, and Stanley hated that. He was intensely selfish to want to keep Sam away from what could make him happy; he didn’t want to lose Sam like he’d lost everyone else.

“What the hell are you doing?” A voice growled. Something about the voice nagged at Stanley; something about it seemed vaguely familiar. It was gravelly and deep, sending a brief shiver like a nightmare and a dream mixed together through him.

He turned to face the intruding voice, griping his blade. A man the same age as Stanley and blending perfectly into the “dungeon” walls strolled to them. He had a royal’s blade in his hand as well with a shimmering jeweled handle that seemed to crawl up his sword arm. Stanley stood straight up and not daring to admit that there was a little thrill going through him at the thought of fighting this beast, despite the harsh memory of his time as a prisoner.

“I’m taking Sam back,” Stanley growled, taking a fighting stance.

“Ooh. Snappy. I think he can take you on Cody,” The invisible girl, Maren Elizabeth taunted.

“Shut up, Maren!” The mimicking guy took the same stance as Stanley; it oddly felt like looking at a shadow or in a mirror. Why was his voice still nagging at Stanley?

He took a step forward, swinging his blade like he did so long ago on that ship to save Sandor, to save Lexa, to save Maddie when he’d thought she had needed it… His opponent brought his blade up, and their swords clashed. That nagging voice disappeared into the intensity of the fight. He hadn’t fought like this sense he’d been set free, since Lexa had died getting him out.

 

_He was going to die. Something inside of him just… broke at the realization. He barely realized the mogs that had been escorting him had fallen, until a familiar face broke into his view shouting amongst the suddenly very loud explosion. “We need to get out of here.”_

_She grabbed his hand tugging him through the chaos with her sword was out and in front of her for any free enemies. He’d thought she was dead; he thought she had died on the ship with Sandor. How had she made it? The thoughts circled in his mind, until they left an empty spot for another important realization, almost as important as the fact that Lexa was still alive and rescuing him from the hellhole he’d been trapped in for he didn’t even know who long._

_“Wait. Five’s-“ He pulled to a stop, thinking about the faceless boy who’d gotten him through, the voice he’d hung on to who was probably still a prisoner here. The boy he had told that he loved him while ridiculously tracing a heart on the concrete wall that separated them. He couldn’t leave him behind, leave him to think the worse or let the mogs kill him._

_Lexa turned ignored him, pulling him along as she sliced through a Mog coming toward them. Something dark rose in him at that. Five had gotten him through so much; he was more than a lifeline. Lexa couldn’t just ignore that!_

_He pulled his hand out of Lexa’s with an anger he didn’t think he would ever feel toward his rescuer. “If you’re not going to help him, then I’ll go rescue him myself!”_

_Lexa turned to face him while two males stepped in to defend them. She had a drawn, haggard face now. “I would love to help everyone here, Stanley, but I don’t have that kind of army or time. I can only save one, and I choose to save you. Now we need to move. And I promise, afterwards I will help you get your friend out of here, but you can’t help him trapped in here.” Her voice was strained like she was trying not to cry._

_Stanley took her hand again, squeezing it. She nodded, and they were running again. He looked behind him, feeling like his heart was dropping to his stomach. “I’ll come back for you Five. If I have to pound on the king’s door to make him pay attention. I will.”_

_It was only outside that everything fell apart. Maddie was waiting for them outside with her own blade and her girlfriend was leaning against the wall as they came out with that sadistic smirk that made Stanley sick. Maddie’s blade was rammed through Lexa before Stanley could fully process what her appearance meant. He screamed. It was like watching Sandor die again, only worse because it was somebody else he cared about, that he could count on to take care of him._

_The blade pulled out of Lexa’s body, and Stanley could only stare as Lexa fell to her knees before falling on her side at Maddie’s feet. He barely heard Maddie’s taunt or felt Lexa’s bodyguards pulling him away from his should’ve been aunt._

“You’re not even paying attention to me,” Stanley’s opponent snapped while their dancing sword fighting continued, pulling Stanley’s attention fully to the present and easing a bit of the remembered pain from Lexa’s death. He focused on the mostly marble man as he continued. “Let alone putting your all into this fight.”

Stanley grinned at him, batting his eyes at the mimicking creature fighting him. “Jealous that you don’t have my full attention.”

The look on the being’s face made Stanley laugh. His opponent took advantage of that and hit his side with the flat of his blade. Stanley leaped aside with a scowl while the other boy grinned. “It’s not very respectable for your opponent.”

“And you’re not even trying to hurt me,” Stanley shot back with a half grin.

He vaguely heard Sam question the invisible chick- “Are they flirting?”- as he threw himself more fully into the battle. It was strangely calming and exciting to be fighting like this. He hadn’t truly fought since his capture. He didn’t have much desire to sword fight with other people, especially when there was mutual ignoring going on.

 

_“Forget whatever happened on your runaway trip, Stanley,” his father informed the moment he was home. “It doesn’t really matter, and no one wants to hear your sob story. You brought everything on yourself.”_

_Stanley stared at him, feeling like his heart was being clamped back into place with excess force. He looked over at his brother who had his back toward them. There wasn’t going to be any help from that corner. Stanley was alone again, and this time he didn’t have Five’s voice and snarky comments to help him get through. His fists tightened, forcing any urge to cry back. In that moment he wished that his dad had died in place of Sandor._

_He walked back out without a word to his father._

_“Stop acting like you’re broken, Stanley!” his father screamed. Mark was out with Sarah at her house. Not that he would’ve stuck up for Stanley. He looked out more for himself, now. There had been a point when Stanley had wondered what had happened to the older brother that had smiled and taught him what he knew and stuck up for Stanley if he was getting his ass kick, but now it was just a fact of his new life. Just like how his mom had apparently ran off with a nobleman from across the seas._

_His father slapped him, and Stanley felt his fists tighten again. He wanted so badly to hit back, to yell and call his father names, or cussat him. It only ever made things worse, made him seem like the villain. After all it was his fault that Sandor died, that Lexa died, that Five was still trapped back in that hell hole waiting for rescue if he was even still alive._

_“Get your shit together, Stanley. Stop being such a disgrace to your family,” His father snarled. “You shouldn’t have bothered coming back if you can’t.”_

_“Yeah, whatever old man. Go get your ass drunk again,” Stanley snarled back. He must’ve wanted his ass kick. His dad’s eyes were already darkening with a rage that would leave Stanley sore for a couple days._

_Sam looked like he was torn between being sad or angry when he saw the bruises on Stanley’s side. “He shouldn’t get away with this.”_

_“No one else wants anything to do with me. I got their brother killed.” Stanley confessed as Sam gently touched the bruises with his cool fingers. And then Stanley was curled up against Sam, breaking down in tears. Sam soothingly rubbed his back whispering soft reassurance._

_Stanley threw a chair against the wall, shattering it. His father had just left with another snide comment about Stanley’s lingering issuesfrom being a prisoner. He screamed and threw another chair at the door. Tears were touching his cheeks as he fell to his knees, whispering with as much broken belief as he could: “I’m not broken. I’m not.”_

_“I know,” Sam said, and Stanley looked to see him coming into the house. For a terrifying moment, this fear of his father getting a hold of Sam filled me until he had trouble breathing. Sam was beside him in the next moment, his hand on Stanley’s back rubbing it._

_“Hey. It’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you,” Sam whispered, pulling Stanley against him. Stanley didn’t even fight it just laid his head on Sam’s chest and melted into him. His eyes closed, and he soaked in Sam’s presence in probably the worst place to have this._

_Sam shifted to sit down beside him. After another moment silent soaking in the comfort Sam always brought Stanley, he finally spoke up. “Don’t come here again, Sam. He could be here, and… I couldn’t bear to lose you too.”_

_“I made sure he was leaving, Stanley. I’m not an idiot. Or suicidal,” Sam told him with a hard edge. Then he sighed, his body relaxing more as he seemed to get what Stanley was saying. He gently kissed Stanley’s temple. “You don’t need to worry so much about me. I will always be here for you. I promise.”_ And then he’d just left Stanley in the middle of the night with nothing more than a note and got himself captured, like that promise hadn’t meant anything.

 

His sword slipped from his hand in a weak moment at the same time his opponent made a move to disarm him. Stanley didn’t have it in him to try a little hard, didn’t have it in him to admit even to himself that he was crying because he couldn’t get his head out of the past. His legs gave out so was basically sitting on the floor, glaring up at the marble man.

Instead of putting a sword to Stanley’s throat like he’d expected, the man crouched down and actually touched Stanley’s hair with something that came near sympathy. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

Stanley stared at him, mouth dry. His voice sounded so familiar and comforting that it reminded him of the boy he’d left behind, that he couldn’t save.And suddenly his heart clenched and that soft moment snapped. He _spat_ at this… this beast in pure spite. The only one who had any right to make him feel like that was gone because of Stanley.

The man wiped the spit off his face with a dark look and pushed to his feet with a growl that echoed off the walls. “Throw him in the cell next to his _friend_. I’ll deal with them later when the wolves are back begging for food.”

Stanley glared at him as the marble man stormed off down the hall. Invisible hands grabbed him, and he went with them as they tossed him into an equally as cozy cell as Sam’s. Sam smirked at him. “I thought you were here to rescue me, not get board and rent for free.”

 

“You are not going to believe what happened,” Maren announced as she came into the back servant quarters. John was hanging out as a little light on top of the table with Marina in the chair next to him, more interested in making out with her boyfriend.

John floated over to her. “What happened?”

“Another stranger came to the castle, and there’s _chemistry_ there! I saw them fighting, and Cody didn’t look like he was going to kill him. He even asked what was wrong with the guy after he won their sword fight! I’ve never seen him act like that with anybody else. I think we have a chance of breaking the curse this time.” She gave John a meaningful look at that, as if to say that she knew he was at least interested in their other new comer.

John would’ve glared at her for insinuating that much if he had a human form. Instead he just coolly replied, “I see. I’ll go talk to him. See what I can find out.”

 

Ivan slowly woke up to the odd feeling of a warm body leaving his bed. He opened his eyes to see one of the generals- Rex, if he remembered the name right- getting dressed out of his bed. It took another moment for Ivan to realize he was naked as well. Shame welled up in him as his face burned. He had only a blurred recollection of Rex on top of him, kissing and panting, their naked skin pressed together in the dark of night. Even that vague memory disturbed him; especially in the way it seemed to intrigue his body.

Rex climbed out the window without even looking back at him. Ivan wasn’t sure if he was relieved about that or not. He sat up and looked around, wondering if anyone saw. Adam was leaning against the doorframe in complete black with heavy boots and one boot propped against the doorframe. He even looked like he was wearing eye-liner. Something about Adam’s appearance unnerved him, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Ivan glared at him. Adam had been sleeping with more guys than Ivan could probably catch him with. He should’ve been caught by now with the number of times Ivan had reported him to the commanders, and now he seemed to have caught Ivan in bed with Rex, which was weird that he even got in bed with another male. In fact he wouldn’t do something like that in any mode. A suspicion formed in his mind as he abruptly remembered that Adam _had_ been sentenced to some experiment dealing with magical powers. His eyes widen in sudden horror.

“What did you do?”

Adam smirked at him. “Payback. You shouldn’t have outed me, Ivan. Now I’ve got proof of your own transgressions.” He held up a disc between his fingers as he pushed off the door frame. “From here on out, you’re my… what’s the word you called me when we were young and I was scrubbing the floor for something _you_ did? Oh, that’s right. You’re my bitch, Ivan.”

He sauntered out of the room, looking as powerful as Ivan feared he was becoming. They should’ve put him down. Their father didn’t seem to realize that Adam’s dangerousness didn’t just lie in his blantant disregard for their laws; it was his cunning way to twist their own beliefs against them. It would be up to Ivan to stop him, then.

His hands tightened, face burning as he realized there was only one other person he could turn to for any help on this mission: the very person he'd been forced to- to.... he couldn't even dare to think of what had happened between them.

 

Adam grinned as he shut his door behind him with his heavy boot. His new powers were more amazing than he'd thought when he'd seen witches using their own magic. He let out a sigh, running his hands through his long hair. It might be just be a high from his sudden magic influx in his core.

Could Akiva have been right when he told Adam there was a kernel of magic in his core? That he hadn't said it to reassure Adam as he'd kissed down the side of Adam's throat. He was always so sweet, carefully undressing Adam....

Now wasn't the time to think about the ex-boyfriend that had showed him the ropes. He had a new mission to work on; he was going to bring the Mogadorian Empire to its knees. They were too busy learning how to fight outsiders in a physical fight to know how to defend from an inside enemy that didn’t fight in a way they were familiar with.

He stretched out and fell on to his bed. Right now, he could’ve used a little bit of company, but he didn’t know if Arvis was even still alive from the experiment. He rolled over with a sigh to stare up at his ceiling. When this was over, when the empire has fallen he would have to go find Akiva. For now… maybe he could find someone in the prisoners to keep him keep company in the meantime. There had been a prince down there at one point- a couple attractive boys that had managed to escape without Adam's help. No one could blame him for it, right away.


End file.
